


Wicked Heart

by Anonymous



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Steve, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bodily Fluids, Bottom Tony, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Tony, Rimming, Self-Lubrication, Top Steve, Virginity Kink, Welcome to Pornlandia, no no yes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:29:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25474660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tony Stark, omega son of a nobleman, is hiding in a monastery when his heat arrives. Left little choice in the matter, he’s thoroughly deflowered by a knight who happens to be passing through.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 47
Kudos: 395
Collections: Anonymous





	Wicked Heart

Tony was well-aware that Father sent him to the monastery for sound reasons. War had been drawing ever closer, crawling over towns and rivers into the rich lands of their peninsula, so often eyed by their neighbors to the north and the east.

Other omegas of the Duke’s household had been sent away mid-spring, before the opening of campaign season. Most traveled to family fortresses, prayed to be strong enough or far enough to withstand what onslaught could be brought upon them. Sadly, Earl Stark was chancellor to the Emperor, and could not do the same for Tony without implying a lack of confidence in their Lord’s ability to protect all holdings of the empire.

It was too late and only with great secrecy that Tony could be brought away to a safe location. Not to Father’s great keep in the south, oh no, not when the safety of the highways were in question. Instead he’d been sent here, to this monastery in the hinterlands, where the food was poor and the entertainment worse. Tony was allowed to bring some of his books, and had access to some of the monastery’s own, but his stay was on condition that he be nameless.

Here he was not the sole Stark heir and prize, and thus entitled to accommodations worthy of his station. Here he was a common albeit learned omega who’d come to them for sanctuary; a common-enough occurrence in itself. Archdeacon Fury, who spent most of his time in the capital, had arranged the entire matter, and was the only person of the order to know of Tony’s identity. Abbott Hill, who was the true master of the community, had no qualms of lording over Tony most vehemently whenever it struck her fancy.

It was for that reason that Tony had made it his business to know every nook and cranny of the monastery’s buildings as was possible without being caught (too often). Library, kitchens, refectory and laundry had all been truly conquered, along with parcels of the other buildings. He spent as little time in his cell as possible, and tallied the hiding places as soon as he found them.

His favorite, if it could be called that, was the small room overlooking the library. He’d found it after annoying Brother Coulson enough into letting him explore on his own. The lock was easily picked, and behind it stairs that led up to another door, beyond which was a small room. The room was bare save a few pieces of furniture and a bedroll covered by dust cloth, though along one wall was installed a screen, through which one could observe the main floor of library below. Tony could clearly imagine Hill standing in this place and watching imperiously through the screen at her monks copying manuscripts at the desks.

Unlike most of the other hiding places that Tony had found so far, this room had given him the greatest peace from the scurrying rabble of monks. He’d not used it too often, if only to reduce the chances of his being caught in it.

But it was for said promise of peace that Tony came to this room in this particular day, for his heat was upon him. The heat that was the responsibility of all healthy omegas, and Tony was a healthy omega indeed.

He’d felt tell-tale signs of his heat the night before, for the ache in his back that had often been soothed by the feather-soft mattresses of home was in this place made much worse. In the morning, through his breakfast of bread he’d contemplated his restlessness, and decided that he’d take to the room for the settling of it.

Thus here he was, in the room that was his favorite hideaway of the monastery, the bedroll unfolded underneath him, his clothes laid tidy upon the table, and two of his fingers inside him.

“Ridiculous,” Tony whispered to himself, to the silent stone and wood of the room. He was as naked as the day he’d been born, and was lying on one side with one leg bent upward for the ease of his fingering himself. His choice of word in this occasion was ‘ridiculous’, because he’d been touching himself for some time now, and not yet achieved orgasm.

There was no doubt about the presence of the heat. His opening leaked wet and needy, while his nipples hurt. He had two hands, so he’d touched and played with both simultaneously, and with all the skill to be expected from a noble omega who’d been raised in dorms with other noble omegas. Tony was no fool; the Stark honor was intact, and his status as a prize guarded jealously by himself, but he’d shied little from the informal lessons on what it was to be an omega. Crude discussions with trusted friends ensured that he was not ignorant, and every heat he’d had since the first had been… not uncomfortable.

This heat, however, was providing to be uncomfortable and frustrating.

He stopped, rolled onto his back, and stared at the ceiling. An evil ceiling of an evil building, that was his opinion. The monks had not only muted the few alphas and fewer omegas of their ranks with herbs and prayer, they’d perhaps set spells into the very stone to prevent _any_ completion of this very human need.

Tony closed his eyes and resolved to try again. He let himself feel the heat curdle low in his belly, the yearning a gentle, familiar tug. He lifts his knees that his legs were propped up, and spread them. In the room, alone though he was, he conjured an imaginary alpha. Tony put a hand between his legs, over his small but stiff omega cock so that his fingertip could find the point of entry. There he brushed lightly, over the liquid that confirmed his need.

He pushed one finger and then another back into the core of him, the way he’d done countless times before. But though the slide of his fingers brought pleasure, it felt distant and lazy, and with none of its usual urgency.

Tony wondered whether the difficulty was due to his unusual circumstances. There was, of course, the fatigue of travel and being trapped in a foreign, uncomfortable place. Another possibility was this heat was altered in some way; certainly this heat should not have been at all, for Sister Romanoff had been giving him tinctures since his arrival, to be consumed every night after meals and before sleep. Foul things, and Tony may have forgotten to take one or two, for surely missing a handful would not turn anything awry.

 _Hah_ , he thought hatefully. Tony let his hand fall away and opened his eyes. At this rate he could be in this room the whole day and miss dinner. Though that may not be too great a loss, for the promise of a completed heat would be at least more pleasurable than the kitchen’s rations.

If he could somehow _reach it._

Tony fumed quietly, angry at all manner of things, but especially himself. If he had convinced Father or Mother that he be sent away earlier, he could be at his favorite manor, chasing pleasure in his own, warm bed.

Footsteps approached. Tony, so lost in thought, assumed them louder-than-normal footsteps of the library below, and thus only recognized their closeness when they were already outside the door.

By then it was too late to hide himself. All Tony could do was scramble up onto his elbows, panicked and frozen, as the door creaked open.

“Don’t worry,” a man said. He didn’t sound like any of the monks Tony had met, and Tony knew from the first appearance of an arm, then a leg, then the rest of him, that he was very much not a monk at all. The man was not looking into the room just yet, for his face was turned away to an unseen companion. “I won’t stay long.”

“Please, Steve,” came Brother Coulson’s admonishing voice. “Take as long as you need.”

Small mercies, Brother Coulson didn’t enter the room. There was merely the man who was not a monk, and he stepped into the room while Brother Coulson’s footsteps retreated down the stairs. Tony watched, his mind a void of any helpful ideas, as the man stiffened up as he turned, his nostrils flaring.

An alpha, Tony realized. An alpha and a knight of some sort, though there were no king’s stripes that Tony recognized on his surcoat. He was in partial armor, and on his vambrace was a star, clearly the mark of a House or family. He was fair-haired, which likely marked him from the north, and the ease with which he carried the heavy sword and shield spoke for even greater on his behalf than his broad shoulders.

The void in Tony’s mind kept him unmoving until the man, Steve of the Star, shut the door firmly, and his eyes just as firmly set upon Tony’s supine, nude form. His eyes roved without shame the spread of Tony’s uncovered form, and it was only then that the thrall that had fallen upon Tony dissipated. He realized the extent of his folly: he was an undressed omega in expectant heat, laid bare upon on the floor without even the excuse of being trussed up for his foolishness.

“Oh,” Tony breathed. He scuttled backwards fearfully, but the knight was fast and silent. The sword and shield were set to the floor with barely a clank and clatter, and then a bare hand came upon Tony’s ankle, pulling him back across the bedroll.

Tony didn’t know what he meant to do, if he got away. His clothes were on the other side of the room, at a distance from the door, and the prospect of fleeing skyclad back to his cell wasn’t an agreeable one. But instinct propelled him to attempt it, until overtaken by the knight’s strong grip on his calves that commanded him to be still.

“Sshh,” Steve said. “Or you may cry out, if you like. You are, of course, here by the order’s leave.”

The thought of Brother Coulson or Sister Romanoff, or worse still, Abbot Hill, finding Tony here, was too horrible to contemplate. Tony lost himself to contemplating it regardless, and it was at that moment that Steve struck.

A tongue between Tony’s legs was a strange sensation indeed. Sweet pleasure danced up Tony’s body, but he didn’t understand its source until he looked down and saw the knight’s face close to the juncture of Tony’s thighs. The alpha’s lips were parted and his tongue broad and flat, and said tongue moved with a shocking boldness across Tony’s opening, pulling warmth at every stroke. The knight tasted him with the relish for a feast long-awaited, and Tony’s heat responded with every eagerness.

Tony’d heard of this, of course. He’d even caught glimpses of ill-planned trysts that left just enough to imagination, and he’d thought his fingers sufficient to imitate the sensation. He was wrong. Fingers were not an undulating surface that lapped and lavished, and did not have lips to chase the liquid taste after. Steve kissed and licked and swallowed the nectar of Tony’s body, which now gushed with enthusiasm as the knight’s reward.

Steve coaxed such sensations as Tony had to cover a hand over his mouth to silence himself in feeling them. He remembered enough of himself to be aware of the outer library and its monks, and it would not do to announce his pleasure to all. Not even when his body was singing with it, in lewd choir with the knight’s ardent exertion upon Tony’s center.

What exertion it was! The knight’s tongue traced and pushed at the tender furls, with such attention as Tony had never used upon his own self. His eyes, too, were fixated upon Tony’s secret place, which gave Steve such delight that he smiled and shook his head in disbelief as it leaked and responded to him. The knight’s hands were not idle either; his fingers rolled a massage at the joint where leg met torso, while his thumb set persistent pressure on Tony’s omega cock.

Inevitably, the heat found its release. The sweat and shaking of limbs was as Tony was familiar with, though the face pressed between his legs was not. The knight drank it all, and sat back with a pleased, slick-soaked smile.

The aftermath of pleasure was exhaustion. Tony’s breaths came slow and labored, and so distracted was he that when he next laid eyes on the knight, the man was close to nakedness that matched Tony’s.

The surcoat and tunic had been set aside, and the opening of breeches revealed Steve’s long, thick, red member, which Tony noted faintly was indeed the stupendous length and breadth he’d heard some alphas proclaim to have. Perhaps not all the stories were exaggerations. The rest of the knight was well-suited to his cock, as well, for he had a broad chest and thighs to match, and was well-formed all over. A shiver passed through Tony’s body, though it was difficult if this came from recognition of the magnificence before him, or sudden realization of what the man meant to do to him. Tony tried not to be alarmed.

At least his curiosity of alpha cocks was satiated.

Though heat-pleased, Tony’s mouth was dry. Trepidation made him try to inch away again, but the knight came upon him, bold as any husband on their wedding night. Steve took the place between Tony’s legs, his thickness in the place where his tongue had been, his chest pressed up against Tony’s.

“Bid me welcome,” Steve said. His hands rested rough and calloused on Tony’s knees, spreading him open for use. “Though I’ll have you either way.”

An appropriate response did not make itself known. Tony could not, after all, introduce himself and explain that in his intacta lay the prize of his house. He could not demand the knight explain himself either, for it was by the natural will of an omega’s heat that an alpha would respond. Sir Steve of the Star, friend of Brother Coulson, merely saw and took as was the wont of his kind.

“A gift,” Steve said quietly. His hand came upon Tony’s face, thumb tracing the contour of his cheek. “Lovely.”

Tony bit his lip, resolved to not protest aloud the silliness of being called a gift, let alone _lovely_. Steve touched his nipples then, soothing the ache away and making Tony sigh. The heat, though sated, arose again, grasping for the offer now upon him.

Steve kissed him, then. Firm and without gentleness, as though he meant for Tony to fully understand his fate. Tony tasted his own flavor on the knight’s lips and found it as pleasing. The tongue, a clever master upon his omega hole, now drew from Tony’s mouth as to make him lightheaded.

What did it matter if he lay with a strange alpha here and now in this horrid place? He was far away from home, using a name that wasn’t his own, and virtue could be somewhat… flexible. Besides, Steve _had_ given him the precise satisfaction that Tony had been striving to achieve all morning, so it was perhaps polite to return the kindness in some form. Wasn’t it?

Steve took acquiescence in the way Tony’s head fell back, baring his neck. His dick breached Tony next, a bold push through warmth and wetness into the most secret place of an omega’s body. Tony thought he had accepted his fate, but into the storm of his mind came a flash of lighting: he was being _taken_! Near two decades of viciously guarding his honor, and here he’d given it away in a rural monastery to the first alpha to walk in on him without an escort.

He was giving it away to an alpha who knew how to press deep and sweet, making him tremble. The Tony felt himself open up to fit the thick shaft as though his body’s only goal in life was to be its matching sheath, and he squeezed desperately every time Steve pulled out slightly to ease the way in. The fullness commanded a satisfaction that Tony had never known, awakening pleasure points deep in the body that had awaited omega fulfillment.

Tony felt himself surrender.

“Oh.” There was surprise in Steve’s voice. His eyes darkened, and he brushed a thumb over a swollen nipple, plucking at it curiously. “You’ve not been tilled before.”

Shame threatened to rise in Tony, but was firmly silenced by the tenacity of Steve’s cock. He fucked Tony, in the manner that Tony was sure all omegas were meant to be fucked, with vigor and robustness. Tony thought he’d known what it was to be wet, but Steve drew new slick out of him, coating the alpha’s shaft thick and shiny.

Tony let himself be plowed, over and over. Steve went far deeper than any fingers, reaching places that had never been touched and now blazed with fire of a heat fully stoked. A hand covered his mouth to keep him silent, but surely the wet noises of where they were joined could be heard by everyone in the monastery. It certainly sounded loud enough in Tony’s ears.

“What a treasure you are,” Steve said. “How sweetly you take me.”

‘Sweet’ seemed inadequate and inaccurate. Tony didn’t feel sweet at all, but desperate, hungry and clumsy. He felt as though he were a mass straining limbs, whose command and purpose had narrowed down to his omega hole, now forced wider than it had ever been for the knight’s exuberant use. Tony thought that his flesh down below must be as red and heated as the member that filled it so fully.

Indeed, the cock that plunged into him was pleasing in itself, yet it also promised greater relief with every thrust. Tony wanted that relief. He yearned for it, and rocked his hips up onto Steve’s dick in frantic search of it. Would it arrive with the next thrust, or the next one, or perhaps the next?

Tony was akin to a bowstring, drawn tighter and tighter, impatient. He writhed against Steve, and tightened his legs around him and did not flush at all at Steve’s pleased hum. Tony was need, pure and simple, and it was Steve’s duty to deliver.

The orgasm, when it did come, seemed to bloom from somewhere deep inside him. Tony felt that he were a bell, being made to ring at the command of Steve’s dick. It engulfed him all at once until it seemed that pleasure was all his body knew and would ever know. He was a creature of bliss, brought to perfect completion by service of an alpha, who now sealed his bargain with delivery of a knot.

The tie landed tight and true inside Tony’s rim. As expected, it was large, and perhaps as large as the fist of Tony’s hand. Steve’s seed filled him in a warm flood, the sensation strange yet recognized instantly by Tony’s body. Shivering and panting, Tony was an omega who now knew the way of the world.

“I dare say,” Tony said, “you are most rude, sir.”

Steve laughed. His blue eyes were proud and content.

At Steve’s urging, Tony turned over onto his hands and knees. Tony’s head found rest on the bedroll, while his ass stayed lifted up onto its place at Steve’s crotch. A deeper tie could be achieved in this position, as Tony had been told and was now proven correct. Here, too, Steve’s body offered warmth in addition to strength, for he held Tony against him, his chest to Tony’s back. Their shared wetness trickled down the inside of Tony’s thighs, as though even Steve’s mighty tie could not contain the evidence of their copulation. Tony felt a new kind of bliss that was different but not separate from the bliss of being fucked.

A noise at the door drew Tony out from his dizzy stupor.

“Steve,” came Brother Coulson’s voice. “I have… food. For you.”

Tony turned, though his vision was partly impaired by Steve’s broad arm. The door was open slightly, and Brother Coulson had seen him. His expression was that of mild irritation, as though Tony’s predicament was both unsurprising and entirely Tony’s own fault. When their gazes met, Coulson’s face shifted to a righteous glare; it was as though he was commanding Tony to do as Steve asked of him, and to not embarrass the order.

No doubt then, that Steve was an important ally of the order, and was being kept here under such secrecy due to his foreign status.

“Thank you. I have all I need for now.” Steve tightened his hand on Tony’s waist, and Tony knew that Steve meant to have him again.


End file.
